


The Lion Walks Alone

by Dreadful Weather Today (TearoomSaloon)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bittersweet, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Heartache, the ending isn't devastating I swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 16:39:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1906194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TearoomSaloon/pseuds/Dreadful%20Weather%20Today
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd made it out alive. He was fine, but something was not quite right. And though he knew what, he refused to put a finger on it, or call it out. Not yet, he decided. Not yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lion Walks Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Only the brave surrender  
> Death cannot tear us apart

"What makes you think you'll be safe here?"

He stared down at the wine he was pouring, not taking a moment to look at her. "I've scouted ahead, I made preparations. I won't be found."

With a grumble and a click of tall heels on wood, she snatched the glass from his hands, retreating to her post with her back against the windows. "You're underestimating Jack."

"You're underestimating me." He sighed, watching the golden liquid swirl in the glass, her red lips leaving marks on the rim. "Return my drink, please."

She raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "No, I don't think I will."

"Alana—"

"No."

She swished by him, disappearing into the kitchen. He took the glass from the table, retiring upstairs.

 

"Are you enjoying it here?" she asked while sitting on the windowsill, swinging her legs out into the sun. It overlooked the ocean and the clear sand beach. The sky was a rich cobalt, the water a light cerulean. A gentle breeze blew her chestnut hair behind her, the smell of coconuts and mangos swirling around his head.

"Yes, it's beautiful." It was, he decided, viewing the curve of her figure in the noon light. "I doubt I could have picked a better location."

"Could have been somewhere less humid." She turned to face him, skin glittering and smile wide. "But the view makes up for that, I guess."

"Would you care for a mimosa?"

"I shouldn't drink—not good for me."

He paused. "I should have remembered."

"We make mistakes, our memories slip. It's not a big deal."

 

"Can't you sleep?" She was beside him under the sheets, her hair on his pillow like paint running off a canvas. Lying on her back, she stared up at the ceiling, eyes tracing the crown molding.

"No, I'm not comfortable."

"What's wrong?"

"My bed's too cold." 

"Pity." She rolled onto her side, facing him. "Whose fault is that?"

"Mine, I imagine. Why can't you sleep?"

"I don't sleep, haven't in years."

"I suppose that's my fault, too."

"In a sense, yes." She turned over, leaving him to stare at her bare shoulder blades.

 

"It's a beautiful night." She stood in the center of his bedroom after turning on the old record player. She held her hands out to him. "Dance with me?"

"I'm tired—"

"Oh, it'll be no more than a few minutes. Humor me."

He accepted her waiting arms, wrapping her body close to his as he had done many times before. A quick waltz, her dress fluttering with their joint movement. He dipped her back over his arm, watching the starlight pass through her eyes. She smiled as he pulled her back up and found that he was smiling, too.

"I always wanted you to take me dancing," she said quietly, her forehead against his chest. "Always, always. I've loved it since I was a little girl. But we never went."

"I never knew you had such a desire to go. I'm sorry we never had the opportunity."

"I'm sorry as well. We'd have been stunning, you and I; floating across the polished floors, passion hot in our eyes." She sighed slowly, gathering him in her small arms. "Shame we missed out."

"An awful shame," he agreed.

"What's a shame, Hannibal?"

He turned, embarrassed, having no answer prepared to give Bedelia.

"All the symphonies I'll miss. Only musing, of course."

She nodded, suspicious, before disappearing down the hall to her room.

 

"What are you doing?" It was his turn to ask her a question, watching as she stripped off layers of clothing, letting the material fall where it pleased.

With a laugh, she fell back onto his sheets, an amused smile quirked on her lips. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"It looks like you're trying to seduce me."

She sucked on a finger, then two, delicately tracing her cherry red lips. "Is it working?"

"Slightly."

"Only  _slightly?_ " She propped herself up. "I'm offended."

"I can't, you know that." He was exhausted, mentally and physically, and he sat beside her, letting his knuckles run gently down her cheek. "I want to, but I can't, if that changes matters. I am so sorry, Alana, my love."

She grew quiet and spoke barely above whisper. "You haven't called me that in ages."

"I didn't think you'd appreciate it."

"I don't know if I do, but thank you." She rolled onto her side, her forehead pressed against his thigh. "You're cold. Can I warm you up?"

He ran a hand through her silky hair. "You're  _dead_ , sweetheart."

"I know. I was just hoping there was something I could do for you." Her voice was soft, tinkling like bells before a summer rain. "I miss being useful to you. I miss being _anything_ to you."

"You'll always be  _something_ , dear. You'll always be important to me, and I'll always love you."

"Fat lot of good that's done me," she said with a forced laugh, wiping her damp cheeks. "I wish I could make you warmer, though, even if that's so little a gift."

"But you've already done that, in here." He laid his right hand over his chest. "I planted a heart for you and watched it grow."

She nudged him down and pressed her ear to his ribs, listening. "It's a beautiful heart, Hannibal. But it's light, like a child's."

"It's innocent still. Pure, like the love you gave me."

"Nothing about you is innocent," she snorted, her cool lips brushing his cheek. "But I loved you all the same, didn't I?"

"With every fiber of your being."

"And I still would, had I a pulse."

He turned his head, kissing her hollowness like she were still made of flesh. "How I long to feel you warm beside me. I regret it every breath."

"I know. You made a mistake. You're only human."

He sighed, feeling little fissures gathering in his ego. "I am, aren't I?"

"Promise me one thing, though. Promise you won't try to come join me early."

"I will make that promise if you tell me something in return."

"Anything."

"What's our living situation like?"

"We have a grand old house near a big city, and a cottage by a lake." She traced patterns on his arms, smiling softly to the sheets. "Two dogs, very well behaved. There are a lot of instruments, and you throw marvelous parties when the idea takes your fancy."

"Do we have any children?"

"The girl I was carrying at my death—she has your smile, Hannibal."

"What's her name?"

"I don't know. You never told me."

"Let's call her Mirabelle; French for your side of the family. She can be Belle or Bella for short, in honor of Jack's wife—she was a brave woman, I'd be so proud."

"I love it."

"One last question. Have we taken our vows?"

She smiled widely, catching the ruby glimmer in his eyes. "Yes, happily. We've been married for years."

"I look forward to our eternity, Alana."

"Come home soon, okay? And remember that I love you."

"I love you too, my dear."

 

She was gone when he awoke the next morning. She was gone as he made coffee and read in his study. She was gone through the night, and the next night, and the next, her cold presence absent from his bed. He swore he caught glimpses of her in mirrors and reflections on windows, but he never saw her fully. She didn't speak again, but sometimes her laugh would echo off the walls, bouncing like sunlight to warm the room.

He found her again after many years, standing outside a tall stone house with a grand old oak whispering in the faint breeze. She greeted him with a hug, her body finally warm and comforting again. He held her so tightly, relishing the feel of her against him, having missed holding her in his arms. He let her go slowly to pick up the little girl by her feet, following the love of his life and death inside the front door.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Wild horses in the wilderness  
> Will know no journey home  
> Well, my love is locked in chains  
> The lion walks alone  
> Oh, the lion walks alone  
> Nature is cruel  
> But he knows it's his home  
> He to his demons  
> And you to your own  
> Please let me stand by you  
> And we'll conquer them all  
> We will conquer them all


End file.
